I Am Anna

I could feel the sun shining on my face through the open window. That's strange; I usually keep my curtain closed at night. But, as I opened my eyes, I didn't recognize anything around me. This room is vast, with only a desk in the corner. The desk is covered in papers- some wadded into little balls, inkwells, a large pen, one candle, and a matchbook. 

As I rose from bed to get a better look, I felt the cold, hard floor through my thin socks. That's strange; I don't usually wear socks- or what seems to be a nightgown- while I'm sleeping. So I sauntered over to the desk in the corner, hoping I could find some clue to explain what was going on. 

Dear Henry, 

I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing to tell you I am waiting for you. So if you read this, please write back. I don't know…

A letter was started but has been left unfinished on the desk. Who is Henry? I reached down to pick up one of the wadded balls of paper and unwrap it. 

Henry, 

My love, I am writing to tell you I await your return. I have not accepted any of the prospects that have called on me. I will not accept, for you are the only one I desire. I do hope you will write back soon, my love. 

Your dearest, 

Anna

Who is Anna? Why am I in her room? Why is Anna writing these letters to some man named Henry, and why are they all worded so strange? We're not in medieval times anymore, send this man a text or call him or something!

"Anna," I hear a woman's voice calling from somewhere in the house. "Anna, you better be awake and ready for the day. You have many more prospects to meet with today. I want you looking perfect with a smile on your face." The woman has a thick, southern-bell accent like in the movies about old-time America. 

The voice is getting closer to the room I'm in, and I'm worried whomever this is would want some explanation of who I am. I don't even know how I ended up here, much less why these people are talking so strange. What century do they think it is? I better check to see if anyone else is wondering where I am. Where is my phone? 

Before I can even look any further, the door swings open, revealing a woman who looks to be in her forties. She seems strangely familiar, but I can't quite place who she is. She must just have one of those faces. She is wearing a dress that looks as if it is straight from Vanity Fair. I don't know what her plans are for today, but I don't think that outfit is fitting for any occasion within this century. 

"There you are, Anna," The woman exclaims. "What on Earth are you doing just standing there in your night clothes. Get dressed. Now! We have plans with the Berningston's at exactly ten this mornin'. Their son is perfectly suitable for you. Please, be kind."

I stood there, staring blankly at the woman. Who is she talking to? Before I can respond, the woman huffs and throws open the double doors on the far wall. The double doors led to a ginormous walk-in closet. 

"Do I have to do everything for you?" the woman proclaims. "Come now, I see a dress you haven't yet worn. It would look quite elegant on your frame- it may just plump you up a bit. Mr. Berningston shall swoon."

I walk closer, thinking she must be talking to me. As I pass through the corridor into the large closet, I catch a glimpse of someone walking by who seems to be about the same age as me. She has fair skin and light hair that comes down to her hips. I take a closer look and realize this is someone else I am looking at in the mirror- someone so familiar. Every movement I make is reciprocated by this stranger. This ghostly, gorgeous stranger. She has high cheekbones, a perfectly sculpted jaw, bright blue eyes, beach-waved, natural blonde hair, and the pinkest lips I have ever seen. I'm in this gorgeous woman's body, but who is she, and where is my own body? 

I walk towards the woman again, realizing the body I am in looks as if she is a younger version of her. I must be Anna, and this must be my mother. An outstretched arm is handing me a long, emerald green dress. It is slim at the top with a corset back. The skirt fluffs out at the bottom with long ruffles. This dress is stunning. 

"Get undressed before we're late, and you lose yet another perfect prospect." The woman- my mother- urges me back towards the large, open bedroom. I begin to undress and step into the undergarments she laid for me on the bed. As I begin to dress, the mother comes over and starts to lace the corset back. "Stand up straighter, Anna. You know better than to slouch in such a hideous position."

I straighten up and feel the corset begin to tighten. It has gotten to the point where I can hardly move. I wheeze a little to indicate that I can't breathe. The mother only pulls tighter. When satisfied, she gives a slight hum and ties the back in an elegant bow. 

"How am I supposed to breathe in this thing, mother?" I find myself asking this complete stranger. My voice- not my voice, but Anna's - is smooth as butter.

"Anna, if you don't cease your complaints, I'm gonna send you away to the school for young ladies," the mother says, with a scowl on her perfect face. 

I stand in front of the mirror, observing how I- I mean Anna- look. I- she- we- look stunning. My mother pulls my hair into a half up- half down bun held in place by a bedazzled comb. The rest of the beach waves fall lightly to my hips. I feel like a princess in this. 

A satisfied smile comes to my lips, one that matches my mother's smile. This is perfect. I turn towards my mother and hug her, then walk quickly past her to peer out the window. I realize now I didn't look out the window before. I can see a cobblestone road- possibly our driveway- and a carriage parked in front of a fountain. I see two men in top hats and a woman in a long, floral dress with a matching sun hat, making their way towards the front of the home. Everything looks and feels fo familiar. I've never been here before, but it feels like I've lived a lifetime in this place. 

A knock on the front door startles me back to reality. I hear another voice greeting our guests, and my mother urges me out of the bedroom and down the elegant stairs. The rest of the house is just as significant and extravagant as the bedroom. There's a giant chandelier hanging from the 30- foot ceiling. The handrails on the stairs are made of natural oak; the stairs wrap down to the foyer.  

"Hello, Miss Presley. It is a pleasure to be in your presence again," a tall, handsome man states, taking off his tophat in a mannered way. "And you, Mrs. Presley. What a lovely home you have here."

"Mr. Berningston," my mother curtsies toward the speaker. "It is a pleasure to host your family here today." My mother gently pushes me closer to our guests. We walk three steps forward and make a quick right, leading them to the living room. 

"Right this way, I thought we might start our time together in the den. Here, we can get acquainted, and Mrs. Presley will get us some refreshments," the man who answered the door, I'm assuming my father, informs our guests. "Unless, of course, there are any objections." 

The den has plenty of seating with a large wooden coffee table in the center. Many heads of animals are mounted to the wall above the grand fireplace. It seems to be summertime, from what I can tell. The air in the house is thick, and when the front door was open, a slight breeze blew in the warm, grassy air. 

"I'll be just a moment with the refreshments. Anna and I made fresh blueberry biscuits last night; she does well in the kitchen," my mother brags before exiting through a door on the other side of the den. 

"So, Miss Presley-" begins the man who first greeted us. 

"Please, call me Anna. Miss Presley feels too formal," I interrupt. "After all, we are supposed to be getting acquainted."

"Suit yourself," Mr. Berningston smiles. "In that case, you may call me Charlie. I only feel that is fair." He nods his head in my direction, looking to my father, then his, for a nod of approval. My father has the hint of a smile playing on his lips. I may be wrong, but he seems happy with how things are playing out. 

"So, Miss- I mean Anna," the lady in the sun hat begins. "Do you have any hobbies other than cooking? Maybe, musical hobbies?" She seems to want me to be better than I truly am. She gives me an evil smirk and looks to the piano. I don't know how to play the piano, but maybe Anna does. We're about to find out, it seems. 

"As a matter of fact, I have been practicing piano since I was eight years old," I reply. I could feel a memory coming to me. One that wasn't my own but was Anna's. I could see myself playing piano, with little hands running across the keys effortlessly. I stood up and walked over to the piano. Sitting down, I noticed a book propped on the stand attached to the piano. There's a bunny-eared piece, so I turn to that page and begin to read over the music. The song is Fur Elise- Beethoven. I have no idea what this song should sound like, but I know it's probably difficult. I take a deep breath and place my hands on the keys. I close my eyes and see myself playing this song as a young girl.

Just as my mother walks into the room, I begin to play. I can feel every note at my fingertips. I am playing like my life depends on it. My hands run through the song effortlessly, and, to my ears, it seems as though I am killing it. I smile, proud of what I am doing, and finish the song by throwing my hands in the air. That was great. I'm not one to boast, but I just played that song without knowing it. Except, I did know it. Anna knows it, and, for some reason, I feel as if I am Anna myself. 

"That was quite lovely, Anna," Charlie exclaims. "Wouldn't you agree, mother?" He gives her a look as if to say, 'be nice.' 

"Yes, Charlie, Anna seems to be quite talented. But, I wonder, have you ever considered teaching lessons yourself. I'm sure you could make a nickel or two teaching pianoforte." Mrs. Berningston edges. 

"Truthfully, that has never crossed my mind, ma'am," I reply, trying to remain respectful towards this woman who seems to hate me- or Anna, I suppose. 

"I do not work, myself," my mother begins. "I don't suppose Anna has ever considered working in any way other than tending to the house. She hasn't known anything other than what she has seen from our family." 

I don't know how to be Anna anymore. Maybe she'll come through effortlessly again as she did on the piano. I don't see this life she has lived… except I feel as if I do. I take a deep breath to brace myself for the interrogations and silently thank my mother for drawing the attention away from me. 

"Anna, would you like to stroll around the garden with me? So many say the Presleys have a beautiful garden," Charlie chimes in. Thank goodness he is getting us away from the interrogations. I don't know how much more of that I can take. 

"I would love to," I agree. "Shall we head out to the patio?" My mother gives a faint smile and nods as if to send us off. I stand just as Charlie extends his arm toward me. We link arms and make our way to the back of the house.

The den has floor-to-ceiling windows that allow a perfect view of the garden. I am sure this is why we were allowed a stroll without a chaperone. As we step onto the patio, I feel many memories returning to me. I can see myself walking with a young man. I feel happy, with a more giant smile than I have ever felt. We are running through the garden laughing. Then, another memory begins, one of me waving goodbye to the same man. He looks sad but proud as he rides away down the driveway dressed in military uniform. I can feel a tear begin to run down my face. I quickly wipe at my own face in reality, but there isn't one. Just a memory. This must be Henry, the man Anna was trying to write to. 

"Is everything alright, Anna," Charlie asks, looking somewhat concerned. "Am I making you feel uncomfortable? I don't mean to. We can go back inside if you like."

I shake my head, signifying that I do not want to return to the hot seat. "I'm quite alright. I was just thinking. Remembering my time as a child here in the garden."

"I understand," Charlie begins, "it must be hard thinking about leaving your childhood home to join a new family. Thinking about starting a family of your own can be hard. I'm sure it hasn't been easy watching your sisters grow and begin their own lives with their new families."

I give him a concerned look. Does he think I will just marry and say goodbye to my family forever? I have no plans to disconnect from the people who love me most. They don't deserve that treatment. "Whatever do you mean? I have no plans to say goodbye to my family forever. I will not- I can not abandon the ones who have loved and raised me." I may have come off harsh, but I needed him to know how I felt- how Anna felt about it all. 

"You do realize, once you get married, you will have to move away and begin a life of your own. You will start your own family and have them to worry about and tend to. You will not have time to play house with your parents." Charlie seems concerned for me, but I am only concerned for him. He believes it is customary to just up and leave your family without care. This life isn't for me. This isn't what Anna wants, either.

"Mr. Berningston, it has been a nice walk, but I believe we should head back inside now." I urge us toward the door. I now know why Anna's mother seemed so distraught about me- her- losing all of our prospects. This is not the life Anna wishes for; she wants to marry Henry, the soldier boy next door. Start a family on a farm and still be able to see her parents whenever she wishes. Henry would let her; in fact, he would encourage it and want to visit with her. 

Charlie looks as if I have just struck him. He quickly composes himself stating, "very well, we shall head back inside and finish off the biscuits. After that, my family and I will leave." I didn't mean to upset or make him think I was uninterested. I am indifferent, but he doesn't have to know that. I just want to live the life I am supposed to live. I want Anna to have what she desires most. 

As we make our way to our seats, a memory from my real life hits me. This memory is of me learning about past lives and reincarnation. This memory is of me looking into my past and wondering who I could have been. This is a memory of my own, not of Anna's. I feel a bit woozy as I take a sip from my glass. I am the reincarnate of Anna. I am Anna. I am also Elizabeth. The real me. I am everyone I once was and everyone I will be. 

"Anna," my mother asks, concerned for me. "Are you alright, darling?" I begin to see stars until everything fades to black, and I feel myself hit the couch. 

"Elizabeth," a voice calls from somewhere in my room. "Elizabeth, wake up. I'm not gonna tell you again. You're going to be late for brunch." I look over and see my best friend, Hannah. She is looking at me with pure annoyance. 

"I just had the strangest dream, Han. There was this… wait, I can't remember anymore," I say. Suddenly, I feel as if I just forgot something important. I feel like that dream was more than a dream, but I can't remember what it was about. So it must have not been that important then. "Never mind, let's get to brunch!"